


i've got you

by PrincezzShell101



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Euthanasia, Final Battle, M/M, Not a happy ending at all, alpha pack, be warned, sterek feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 04:18:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/882861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincezzShell101/pseuds/PrincezzShell101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the final battle with the alpha pack, you can't always expect everything to go just the way you'd planned.</p><p>Stiles finds that out the hard way…</p>
            </blockquote>





	i've got you

**Author's Note:**

> So, depressing stuff ahead… 
> 
> *calls out*
> 
> All ABOARD!
> 
> …or not.

It had all happened so fast, in a blink of an eye; too quick for Stiles to even see before it had already happened.

One minute Derek had been fighting Deucalion, claws tightly wrapped around the head alpha's throat, actually  _having_ the upper hand, and the next…  

One of the other alphas ( _Aiden_ , Stiles remembers) had pounced, out of nowhere. (Probably from the shadows, hidden in the trees; it had been quite dark at the time, actually.) But Stiles  _clearly_ thinks back to how Allison had shot an arrow through the alpha's chest and into its heart, killing it. Wait… unless that had been  _Ethan_. They  _were_  fucking twins, after all.

But seriously, it was like… Aiden  _wasn't_ there, and then he was just  _right there_. The alpha had just  _attacked_. He'd grabbed Derek from behind and literally  _threw_ him into the air. Their alpha had, of course, landed on his feet (being a werewolf had its perks, one being quick reflexes), but no sooner had Derek's feet touched the ground, Aiden was ripping a clawed hand through his chest.

Stiles had been helping Lydia keep Kali bound in a magic bubble (it kind of reminded him of the force fields that the girl from _The Incredibles_ could make) when he'd heard the loud, tortured howl that shattered through the air. Automatically, Stiles had  _known_ that was Derek.

He remembers turning around and seeing the flash of  _pure_ _agony_ that had crossed over Derek's features when the claws had punctured through flesh, bone and muscle. He remembers running towards their alpha ( _his_ alpha) with no care for Lydia screaming out his name, or anything else for that matter, other than getting to Derek. And he  _remembers_ watching Aiden burn, flames erupting out of his skin and engulfing his whole body,  _remembers_ hearing those tormented cries of pain that Aiden had let escape before he'd collapsed to the ground, body nothing but a scorched corpse that rotted of fire and ash and death.

Deucalion had not been pleased. He'd tried to rip Stiles's throat out for helping kill yet another member of his pack. Stiles had just snapped his fingers, immobilising the alpha of any movement, before he'd let Boyd (who'd wanted to get revenge for the death of Erica, his  _mate_ , for a long time), rip the alpha's head clear off of his shoulders.

When Boyd's eyes had flashed red and he'd howled high and almighty, Stiles had known that the head of the alpha pack was well and truly  _dead_. He'd heard screaming and turned around just in time to see Scott and Isaac ripping Kali to shreds, Lydia having let down the bubble encasing her in.

Stiles remembers the panic that had coursed through him when he'd been rushing to Derek's side. The alpha had fallen to the ground after the hit, his blood a steady stream that had been pouring out of his chest and pooling around him; the ground had been soaked with it. Stiles had felt sick to the stomach as he'd lifted Derek's head up to rest on his lap, staring into the alpha's jade eyes. His skin had been pale,  _ghostly_ , way worse than when he'd been shot with the wolfsbane bullet, and his breath had been scarcely audible.

Stiles barely remembers the drive, but they'd taken Derek to Deaton's. He  _does_  remember Derek's head in his lap the whole way there, though; how he'd stroked his hands through the alpha's hair,  _begged_ him to survive, to pull through.

 _"C'mon, Derek. You're the_   _alpha_.  _You gotta make it, man. You_   _can't_ _die. All right? You_   _can't die_ _."_

 _"Derek, please_.  _You can't_ …  _You can'tdie. If you die, I'll be devastated. Truly and utterly fucking devastated. So, you gotta pull through, okay? You've gotta stay alive."_

 _"Sourwolf? Yeah, you've got me calling you this now. You_   _have to_   _survive. I mean it, buddy. I know you're in agony right now and it sounds like the best idea to just let go, but it's_   _not_ _._   _Okay?_ _It's_   _not_ _."_

When they'd got to the vet, Derek was unconscious and Deaton had ordered them straight in. He'd made Scott ('cause Scott could carry an alpha, not Stiles) lower Derek onto the table and he'd looked at the wound on the alpha's abdomen. It wasn't good, and Deaton had stated that almost instantly. It was still bleeding and Derek's skin was layered with sweat, tan skin now ghostly pale.

The veterinarian/emissary had said there was no hope. The wound was too fatal; it was from an alpha so it was meant to take longer to heal, but since the alpha who'd inflicted the wound was dead it just wouldn't heal at all. Deaton did his best to clean and bandage it up, told them that they could all say their goodbyes before time was up.

So now, here was Stiles. The pack had already said their goodbyes not long ago. Lydia and Allison had cried profusely, Boyd had been stoic and sullen, and Scott and Isaac had looked utterly heartbroken, like their favourite puppy was being put down (which was half-true). Deaton had said that the best way for this, was to put Derek out of his misery. The death would be agonising if they let it run its course naturally.

"Y'know, I never thought I'd actually be witnessing someone die. In my mind, it's usually the other way around." Stiles chokes out a laugh, squeezing Derek's hand. The skin is clammy and pale and when Stiles looks at the contrast between his own skin and the alpha's, it just makes him want to cry.

"I'm the one who manages to get into danger all the time and get hurt, not you. It's… it's just not right, Derek. You're the alpha; you're  _strong_. I'm weak and puny and  _completely human_.  _I'm_ the one who's meant to be lying there, pale and broken and  _dying_.  _Not_ you."

Stiles isn't sure, but he feels a light pressure on his hand. He looks down to see where his and the alpha's hands are held together, then up to Derek's face.

"Derek? Derek, you awake in there?" He squeezes the alpha's hand and watches Derek's face for a sign, for  _anything_. "Can you hear me? De—"

"Stiles…"

It's barely audible; a hoarse whisper.

"Derek! Hey, hey buddy, can you… Can you hear me?"

Relief bursts through him when Derek's eyelids flutter open.

"Yes, I… I can hear you," Derek says softly, eyelids fluttering closed and then opening again, like he's fighting to keep them open. "Where… where are the others?"

"They're out back. They… t-they." Stiles clears his throat so his voice doesn't catch. "They already said their goodbyes."

Derek's silent, and Stiles thinks he's going to start asking questions like _why did they say their goodbyes?_ or _what's going on!?_ but he's dazed when the alpha just lets out a small, soft sigh and murmurs, "Okay."

"Okay!?" Stiles is shocked by how loud his voice is, and he steels himself before speaking again in an angry hushed whisper. "What do you mean  _okay_? You're going to  _die_ , Derek!"

"I know that, Stiles," Derek says, and  _oh God_ _his_   _eyes_ , they're so vulnerable, like he's  _giving in_ , "and it's all right."

Stiles is choked into silence. He can't think of anything to say. Derek is actually  _accepting_ his own death; he's really  _letting go_.

Stiles is about to say something like _are you crazy!?_ or _Derek, what the fuck are you doing!?_ but Deaton walks in with a needle that's filled with green liquid. Stiles feels numb, because that's the needle that is going to  _kill_ _Derek_ _._

"Ah, Derek, you're awake. How are you feeling?" Deaton asks, walking over to stand where Stiles is sitting next to Derek, who is lying on the table.

"Could be better," Derek chuckles, but it comes out all  _wrong_  and he starts coughing, chest racking with the tremor of it. Stiles automatically squeezes the alpha's hand in his grasp, tears stinging his eyes as he watches Derek's whole body shake with the coughs that sound like they're absolute  _torture_.

When Derek's coughing fit finally subsides, his chest is rising and falling in a harsh rhythm and his skin looks like it is even  _paler_. Stiles is  _petrified_ of what's going to happen next, especially when Deaton looks at the needle in his hand and then at Derek, before saying, "Derek…" in a cautious tone, like what he's going to do soon pains him as well.

Derek looks up at Deaton with tired eyes, and much to Stiles's horror, lifts his head in a weak nod.

" _NO_!"

Stiles stands up when he hears the yell, and at first he's looking around the room, trying to find out  _who_ had said it.

Then he realises it's  _him_.

"Stiles…" Deaton's putting a firm hand on his shoulder, and it's now that Stiles  _also_ realises that he's shaking, body trembling. He's  _scared_. He's… Fuck, he's so  _scared_.

"Stiles, this has to be done," Deaton says lightly, and when Stiles turns, he sees that the man looks just as bad about doing this as Stiles feels about it happening.

"No, no,  _no_ , no there has to be another way," he chokes, feels the first tear slide down the side of his face. "This isn't the only option; it  _can't_ be! There has to be another way!"

"Stiles… Deaton… Deaton's right."

Stiles feels his whole body freeze up at that fragile voice, and he turns to see Derek staring up at him weakly, features softening. It's the same look Stiles remembers at Scott's betrayal, the same look when the alpha had accepted that Scott had planned behind his back against Gerard to  _save him_.

But there is no saving him now…  

And it's all too hard for Stiles to accept.

"No Derek, he's  _not_. There… there  _has_ to be another way!" He's not giving up. He's not letting Derekgive up.

Stiles hears Deaton sigh. "Stiles, I know this is hard for you. It's hard for everyone. But, it has to be done; for Derek's sake," he says, and Stiles can understand where he's coming from, he  _can_ , but he just doesn't fucking  _want to_. "Stiles. Stiles,  _look at him_. He's going to die, and the nicest thing we can do for him now is to—"

"—to let him die peacefully," he mutters quietly, looking down at the ground with tears welling in his eyes.

"Yes, that's right," Deaton says smoothly, though it sounds like the words were forced out of him with much regret.

Stiles lets out a jagged breath before looking up. He sees Derek, lying there. The alpha's eyes are still open, but barely. His body looks so  _frail_ and Stiles just wants to wrap him up in his arms and hug him and never  _ever_ let him go.

"Okay," he whispers brokenly, clenching his eyes shut as he speaks. "Do it. Just… just make it… make it quick." And then he's walking, walking towards the door that leads out into the waiting room when…

"S-Stiles… please… S-Stay… Stay with me?"

The voice is there, but it's so small that Stiles only  _just_ hears it. When he turns around and sees the defeated and frightened look on Derek's face it… it just  _breaks_ him.

He's across the room and sitting in the chair next to where Derek's lying in under a second.

"Of course," he chokes, tries to smile but just  _can't_ , ends up letting out a sob instead. "Of course I'll stay."

Derek seems to relax as soon as he's sitting down next to him, and then Stiles sees Deaton pop the lid off of the needle, moving closer. As soon as this happens, Derek's back to looking afraid, eyes wide and fearful. "Stiles… I'm scared," he whispers, voice cracking on the last word.

It breaks Stiles's heart.

Stiles automatically moves his hand over to where the alpha's is limply lying on the table, taking it in his and squeezing gently. "I've got you, all right? I'm not gonna let go. Okay? I'm not gonna let go," he whispers back, voice obstructed with tears.

Derek smiles, it's short and it's soft and it's warm all at the same time and it eats right away at Stiles's insides. "Thank you, Stiles."

"All right, Derek, this isn't going to hurt one bit," Deaton says gently, taking Derek's other arm where there's a drip inserted, poising the needle. "You're just going to feel a slight prickling sensation, then it'll be just like falling asleep."

Stiles can't help it when he lets out another sob, this one clogging up all the air in his lungs. He squeezes Derek's hand tightly, never wanting to let go, when Deaton injects the green liquid into the drip. He watches it travel through the drip, turning the clear fluid in the drip into a diluted greenish colour. His gaze lands on Derek's face; the alpha's eyes are still open, but they're fluttering, feebly trying to stay that way.

"S-Stiles… don't… P-Please, don't let go," he murmurs, voice weak, hand that's threaded through Stiles's faintly squeezing, the grip loose and barely there. 

"Derek," he croaks, fighting back tears but it's just  _not working_. "I'm not. I'm not letting go, all right? See?" He squeezes the alpha's hand, and Derek blinks up at him blearily, the life slowly bleeding out of his eyes as they glaze over. "I'm not letting go, Derek. I've got you, buddy.  _I've got you_."

As the last drop of green fluid is injected in the drip, Stiles leans down to the alpha's face, gently brushes a soft kiss to Derek's lips, finds himself whispering _I love you_ in a broken, cracked voice.

He looks up into Derek's hazy jade eyes, sees the sleepy acknowledgement, and tearfully watches as the last ounce of life flickers out, just before they sluggishly drift shut.

He feels the wolf's last breath expel in a short, silent, faltered puff of air against his own lips.

He observes the calm, gentle smile that graces Derek's lips, remembers how they'd slowly curled up like that when he'd brushed his lips against them, and skims his finger over them in a soft touch. The skin's still warm and that fact just…

Everything inside him instantly  _shatters_.

**Author's Note:**

> So… yeah… 
> 
> *holds out tissues*
> 
> Your welcome.


End file.
